Lonely Secrets
by ApacheGator
Summary: In the ruins of Fort Eustis, Fox lives alone. He doesn't remember much of his childhood, just that the old Alpha Co. Barracks is his home and that he is all alone. However, about a half year ago, he had discovered a Vault under the base's PX. Everyday since, he'd sit outside the door for half the day in the hope that the door would open and that he could talk to real people.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Blue eyes snapped open, idly searching the cracked ceiling before blinking rapidly a couple times. Sighing, Fox sat up and rubbed his eyes as he swung his feet off the bed. Immediately he dropped into push-ups. Pumping out sixty non-stop, he flipped over and did an equal number of sit-ups. With sweat dripping onto the stained tile, he exited the room into the hallway and walked to one of the two sets of stairs. The main section of the building was built like a capital "I" with the staircases at the vertexes. Using these stairs, Fox ran up to the third floor, down the hallway, down to the first floor, down the hallway, and back up to the third floor. He did this about twenty times before he walked back onto the second floor and bent over, breathing heavily.

Catching his breath, he walked back into his quarters. This took up three rooms. The first room had a table with one chair, a counter made of vehicle barriers with plywood on top, a couple lockers marked "FOOD", a half dozen lockers marked "SCRAP/MISC", and a locker marked "FIRST AID".

The second room was a little smaller than the first. It contained nothing but lockers. Against one wall they were marked "WEAPONS". Another wall was marked "AMMO". The third was full of lockers marked "ARMOR/CLOTHES". The last was marked "MISC GEAR".

The third room was much smaller than the second, only about a quarter of it's size. This room contained a blocked off door, a single person bed, a nightstand, and a radio on a small table. It wasn't the most well decorated quarters but it was functional and fit Fox's needs perfectly.

Stripping down to his birthday suit, Fox grabbed a towel from one of the MISC GEAR lockers and dried himself off. Neatly returning the towel to the locker, he grabbed some deodorant that he had found a couple days ago. After applying it to his armpits and chest, he returned it and moved to the apparel wall. Opening a locker, he pulled out an old army uniform. It was sewn back together in some places but was still in pretty good condition. After pulling on a pair of skivvies, Fox pulled on the uniform, including a pair of socks and the boots. Next came the armor, attaching the ceramic plates piece by piece.

There were modifications to the armor. For one, he didn't wear the right pauldron, at all. Secondly, he had moved the left pauldron so it was vertical against his left shoulder. Instead of the helmet, he wore an old patrol cap that matched the uniform. Sunglasses currently sat on top of the hat's brim. On the shoulder plate was a picture of an orange fox, faded by time. Pouches covered his torso and left thigh while a, currently empty, holster sat on his right thigh.

Yawning, he moved into the "kitchen" and pulled out a box of cereal. Using a bowl and spoon sitting on the counter, he poured some cereal into the bowl before replacing the cereal. Taking the bowl to the table, he sat down and silently enjoyed the cereal. When he was done, he put the bowl and spoon back on the counter before moving back into the gear room.

From the MISC GEAR lockers he first grabbed a small hydration bladder and a couple bottles of water. The bladder was made from an organ of a wild animal while the house and bit he had found and cleaned to the extreme. Filling the bladder, he slid it into a green pack, matching the uniform and armor. The pack was a little skinnier than his back but went from his hip to the base of his neck. He also put a couple of extra bottles of water and some food into the pack. As well, he checked two other pockets to see that there was still paper and pencil in the bag. Satisfied, he swung it onto his back.

Moving to the weapons wall, he opened a locker to reveal a large assortment of weapons ranging from pistols to machine-guns. Grabbing a 9mm pistol, he shoved it into his holster before closing the safety clasp. A machete went into a sheath on the right side of his pack while a small blade was strapped to his left calf. Lastly, he grabbed a Chinese Assault Rifle and closed the locker.

At the ammo wall, he first loaded his two ballistic weapons before filling every available pouch with extra magazines and clips. By the time he was finished, he had enough ammo to shoot for hours straight. While he was in the locker, he also grabbed four grenades and put them in special pouches on his belt.

Making sure all the lockers were shut, he started on his way to the outside. Outside, he looked up at the sky and sighed. If only he could be up there, amongst those sparse clouds. Away from this hellish, lonely world. Adjusting his grip on his rifle, he walked the couple yards down the sidewalk to the parking lot. A rusted bus was sitting on the asphalt with the husks of a couple of cars as company. All of the vehicles had their engines still in them. They also had blinking white bricks of C4 stuck to them as Fox's insurance.

Coming on a road, he stopped behind a cracked concrete block and looked both ways. Not for cars, as those had been gone for centuries, but for hostiles. He was crossing a very open area and didn't want to be caught with his pants around his ankles, metaphorically speaking. See, Fox wasn't truly alone. He had company in the form of wild dogs, mole rats, radroaches, ghouls, and the occasional Raider band.

Not seeing anything, he jogged across the avenue and turned left, walking alongside the road. As he did, he scanned his surroundings, searching the destroyed, decaying structures for any sign of life. Thought it would most likely be something he'd have to shoot, seeing something alive would brighten his day. It'd tell him that this world was still survivable and give him hope that maybe he'd one day run into a normal human. It also made him wish that they'd open their door.

* * *

A pair of green eyes lazily opened. The room was still dark and it was very cold, causing her to shiver and bring her blanket tighter around her body. Rolling over, she glanced at her clock: 0912. She closed her eyes again, sighing happily.

"Oh shit!" she started, flinging off her blanket as she shot to her feet. Her shift started at 0940; she knew she should have double-checked her alarm! Damn these swing shifts! Hurrying, she stripped out of her sweats before tearing a uniform out of her dresser. Sliding on the green and gold jumpsuit, she shoved her feet in her boots and laced them up. After making her bed to standard, tight with forty-five degree hospital corners, she threw on her vest, grabbed her helmet and rifle and darted out of her room.

She tore down the corridors, walking when she saw an officer and apologizing when darting past NCOs. She'd probably get reemed for this later but she just couldn't be late to her post. That would be unacceptable. As she ran, she finished tightening her vest and put on, and strapped, her helmet.

With rifle in both hands, she slowed down and calmly walked into the Atrium. It was huge, big enough to fit all nine hundred and twenty occupants of Vault 57 and still have room for more. Against one wall was a large stand where the Vault's CO would stand during morning mass. The reason why she was walking was because this was where officers seemed to coagulate during the duty day. Why, she'd never know, but they did.

Once out of the Atrium, she took up a light jog, careful. Finally she reached her destination: the Vault door Security Checkpoint. Otherwise known as the easiest job a V57th MP could hope for. Entering the small room, she was met by the smirk of Corporal Jones, her partner.

"Cutting it close aren't you Specialist?" he asked, saying her rank teasingly. They were the same grade but Corporals were counted as NCOs while Specialists were just skilled Privates.

"Why yes, Corporal, I am. I'm guessing you already relieved the previous shift?" she questioned back as she took a seat at the table, laying her rifle on the table.

"I did. Don't worry though, I told Sarge that you had a little emergency," he replied with a chuckle as her cheeks turned red. He continued with a bit more seriousness in his tone, "Just don't be late next time. I can't cover you forever."

"I know," she replied. Chelsea Gainer had been like this ever since she was born. Of course, after basic training, she had been able to situate herself to an extent. However, as today proved, she still had moments of carelessness. Vault 57 had no desire to keep the careless. Vault 57 was a special Vault in that it was run by the military for the military. It was designed to secure an Army Aviation Battalion should the apocalypse occur. Well, the apocalypse did occur and the Battalion went underground.

With permanently grounded Vertibirds in a giant hanger and three dozen simulators, they kept their trade-craft at the peak and was able to hand it down from generation to generation. Of course, since it was a military Vault, everything was ran as such. They went through Basic Training and Advanced Individual Training when they turned fourteen. Officers and NCOs were to be respected and the Soldier's Creed was to be lived by every man and woman.

This may seem like it'd make life strict. Well, it did but when the troops partied they partied hard. Some parties were illegal, causing Military Police like Chelsea to be woken up in the middle of the night cycle to break it up. She personally didn't mind everyone winding down and burning stress with a couple drinks and some hip bumping but Command did. Sometimes it sucked being a MP but she had learned to live with it.

Standing up, she walked to the mirror against the wall. Why there was one, she had no clue but it was there and she planned to use it. Standing in front of it, green eyes examined the body they belonged to. Brown hair poked out from underneath the rim of the helmet, which was a hybrid between the old military's combat helmet and a civilian riot helmet. Currently, she had the face shield up. The vest was civilian design, black, and covered her torso. A holster was set up in a cross-draw configuration on the front of the vest, holding her 10mm pistol. Pouches for ammo covered the rest of the vest. The jumpsuit was an olive drab color with a gold "57" inside a "V" on her left arm. The shield and eagle of the Specialist rank was sewn onto her right arm. She knew from memory that the same thing on her left arm was on her back.

"Well, look who it is," she heard Jones mumble. Turning, she already knew what she'd see. Looking at the security screens, she spotted the one for outside the door. There, taking a seat by the heavy cog door, was a man dressed in old military armor with a Chinese rifle and a small Tactical Pack. The man looked at the door for a good while before setting his rifle aside and removing his pack. Instead of the normal pencil and paper, he pulled out a small ball. Chelsea tilted her head as this was new. She watched as the man looked at it for a couple seconds before throwing it at the wall across from him, the ball bouncing off and back to him. Catching it, he threw it again. And again. And again.

"Looks like he found something new to do," Jones commented as he went back to his book. Chelsea only hummed in response, watching the man. Every day he came. The time varied, Chelsea could only imagine what he had to face, but he would always show up and wait outside the door, as if waiting for it to open and them to welcome him inside. The young Specialist found herself wanting to let him inside. She wanted to know how it was like outside the Vault. She wanted to know his name and where he lived. But, most of all, she wanted to know why... why he always came to the Vault. Was it a deep connection to the old world? A tribal ritual? Or was he just alone?

She'd never know. The CO ordered that the door remain closed and she would do her duties to the letter. Of course, that didn't mean that she'd try to find a lawful way to get outside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Fox sat against the cold steel wall with his pack beside him, drawing on the paper he had brought with him. He had gotten bored of bouncing the ball off the opposite wall. Though the ball was amusing (also having a picture on it depicting one person daydreaming of a new car and another daydreaming of the first person), it didn't hold his attention like drawing did. He liked to draw scenes of what it might have been like before the war. Trees, crowds, busy streets. It helped him see the world in perspective and, though it made him sad at times, gave him a goal to strive for.

Of course, step one of that goal was to meet someone civilized.

"Hey, Choppa, lookee what I'z found! It has one of them Vault thingies, I bet."

"Haha, I ha'nt had Vaultie yet."

And these newcomers didn't sound very civilized. Their rough voices and maniacal laughter continued to echo down the stairs and halls as Fox hurried to pack up his drawing materials. Zipping up his bag, he glanced at the camera as he grabbed his CAR. The Chinese made rifle was familiar in his hands, filled with tiny splinters from the weapon's wooden handguard. Looking down at the rifle, he pulled the bolt halfway back and check the chamber. A round was already in, like it should. Letting it slide back, Fox took off down the hallway to the first corner, pulling up a facemask as he did so. His sunglasses had been left by his pack.

With his back against the wall, he waited for the voices to get closer. Their conversation was quite disturbing as they talked about what they would do to anyone they found. One was describing how he would screw someone until there was nothing left but a bloody pulp. Another talked about making any captives fight each other for scraps. These definitely weren't the civilized people that Fox wanted to meet. These were savages, humans who reverted back to animalistic sense. Since they acted like animals, Fox would treat them like animals.

Glancing around the corner, he saw the first two round the corner at the end of the twenty meter long hallway. Being this close, they saw him too.

"Hello!" one of them shouted as he snap shot the bolt-action rifle in his hands. The round hit the wall next to the corner, ricocheting past Fox's face and causing sparks to fly. Cursing his stupidity, Fox ducked back behind the corner.

"There's one! Let's gets him and tear him aparts!"

Fox blind-fired around the corner, earning a series of curses and pained yells from the savages.

"Bastard got me!"

"Stop ya whining, this one's got fight in 'im!"

With his firing hand, Fox pulled a grenade from it's pouch and flicked off the pin. Stepping around the corner with arm cocked back, he saw two things. One, he had killed two and wounded another with his blind-fire. Two, the others were a lot closer than twenty meters. Fifteen meters closer.

Throwing the grenade with as much force as possible, he nailed the lead guy in the face, causing him to curse and stumble. Fox was running though, aware of the gunshots ringing out behind him.

"What he throw?"

The explosion shook the tunnel. The tunnel itself acted as an amplifier, sending the concussive force shooting outward and ricocheting any shrapnel. Fox felt himself get picked up and tossed. A second later, his back slammed into the solid Vault door. His head followed, sending pain shooting down his spine as blackness hurried to blind him.

* * *

"Holy shit," Jones murmured.

Gainer stood with a hand to her mouth as she looked at the unmoving body slumped against the Vault door. It wasn't the first time she had seen him leave with the obvious intent to kill something but it was the first time that she had actually seen him fight. The cameras had a clear view of the entire hallway that led to the Vault so she saw everything. From the blood-soaked savages to the grenade blast, she saw it all. Said grenade blast damaged one of the cameras as it now showed only static. Not only had she seen it but, with the microphones, she had heard it. The frantic gunfire. The savages talking. The crump of the grenade.

"We have to go out there," she finally choked out.

"What? Why?" Jones asked, looking at Gainer in shock.

"To see if he's still alive," she replied solemnly.

"And if he is?"

"We help him."

"The Colonel will never authorize that."

"'I serve the people of the United States'," Gainer quoted from the Soldier's Creed. It was all she could think of as a response.

"That's not the United States, anymore. It's a wasteland," he countered, "This is all that is left of the United States."

Gainer paused, thinking. He was right. The outside couldn't be considered the United States anymore. It was Wastelandia, a land that apparently contained savages that preyed on those trying to scrape by. Still, the man outside wasn't a savage. From what she's seen of him, he was just someone trying to survive in the new world.

"We should still help him," she insisted, looking defiantly into Jones eyes. Her partner was so very confused. This confusion quickly turned to aggression.

"He's an outsider! He could be contaminated with God only knows what and you want to bring him in here?" his shouted words echoed around the small room. She cringed at his shouts. Not because she was scared but because of the attention it might bring.

"God has nothing to do with this," she replied. She personally didn't believe in God or any other higher power for, if there was one, why would it damn humanity to live like this? "We were trained to help people."

"We were trained to keep the peace inside the Vault, not take in outsiders," Jones growled, "Why do you insist on helping him?"

Finally, twenty year old woman's mental barrier burst, "I don't know! Maybe because he's the only civil person we've seen out there? Maybe because he's about the same age as me and from that scene alone already has more combat experience than anyone in this Vault? Or it might be because he has firsthand knowledge on what life is like outside?"

Gainer breathed heavily as she awaited a response from her partner. He said nothing, opting to just sit in stunned silence and examine the Specialist. She briefly wondered what was going through his head. Would he agree with her? Would he argue more?

Would he try to arrest her?

He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "We're gonna get in so much trouble for this," he mumbled. Gainer smiled. She really didn't expect him to help her but it was nice to see that she could trust her partner to have her back.

The two MPs moved through the airlock to the Door Chamber. The massive steel cog that acted as the door sat flesh with the wall at the opposite side of the room. Stairs descended down to it and next to the stairs lay a control panel with a signal switch and two lights. The light was currently green.

Flipping down the mask of her helmet, Gainer checked her rifle. The R91 was an American made rifle used by the troops in the Great War. Now it was her protection against anything waiting outside. She frowned when she saw that the chamber was empty. It was a foolish, rookie mistake. A yank on the charging handle corrected that.

"Ready?" Jones asked. He stood by the panel, non-firing hand on the switch. No, she wasn't ready but this was her idea so she nodded her head and steeled herself. The Corporal flipped the switch and immediately sirens began to sound as a orange light flashed. The light on the panel went from green to red as the screeching of old parts coming to life sounded in her ears. This would be the first time the Vault was opened since the Great War and it was to help a stranger.

The peg, as she called it, swung down to connect to the cog door. Latches locked into place before the peg pulled. She smashed her eyes shut and ground her teeth in pain as the door was pulled back, screeching in the process. Jones stepped in front of her when it was done being pulled back. The signal was clear, he'd be the first out.

As soon as the door started rolling to the side, they were moving with weapons up. They reached the portal as soon as there was enough room for them to exit. Jones went through first, Gainer following close. The stench of blood and death smacked her in the face, causing her to stumble and choke back vomit. This wasn't the time. Outside, Jones took a kneeling position by the man's gear, his rifle pointed at the corner.

Wasting no time, Chelsea grabbed the back of the man's armor and dragged him into the Door Chamber where the alarms still blared. More MPs would be there soon. They'd want to kick him back out. They needed to get the door closed before that could happen.

With the man inside, she looked up to see Jones right next to her with the man's gear in his hand. Behind her, she saw something step around the corner and she froze. It looked human, two legs and two arms, but it's skin had all but fallen off. Bone was visible in a lot of places while other places looked like overcooked jerky. Tendons visibly pulled and muscles contracted as it moved it's legs. Two dead, haunting eyes locked with hers.

It reared it's head back and screeched. While it wasn't as loud as the door, it still caused her pain. Jones spun around.

"What the fuck?" he asked right before the thing began to charge. Simultaneously, the two of them raised their rifles and unloaded. Filled with lead, the thing fell to the floor and skid to a quarter of the way down the hall. Gainer was about to breathe a sigh of relief when three more came sliding around the corner.

"Gainer! Get the door!" Jones shouted as the new arrivals began to charge. Gainer immediately took off for the control panel, slamming the lever the other way. The light began to flash again as the door slowly began to roll into place. Why was it so slow?!

The Specialist ran back to Jones and stood behind him, firing over his head as more and more of the rotting monstrosities rounded the corner. They were all at different stages of rot and all wore scraps of clothes. It was obvious that, at some point, these things had been human. That made it all the worse for her. Her rifle clicked and her trained kicked in. Her trigger finger depressed the mag release while her non-firing hand reached down, grabbed a new mag, and slid it into the now empty mag well. Sliding the bolt forward, she continued firing as the door closed more and more.

Finally, the door slid into place. One of the creatures was smashed between the heavy door and it's frame. As the door screeched into place, it cut the thing in half, the torso dropping to the floor with a wet thud.

Just as the alarms stopped blaring and the light stopped flashing, the door from the airlock bursted open. About half a dozen MPs filed into the room, their rifles aimed at the front door and everything and everyone there.

"Isn't that cliche as fuck," Jones commented. Gainer would've laughed at that but, with about six rifles pointed at her, now wasn't the time. She about froze with the Colonel walked in behind them, his Vault suit looking more like a formal suit than a jumpsuit. He had medals and ribbons galore on his left chest while the bird emblem of the Colonel sat polished on his collar.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asked as he looked around the Chamber. His eyes settled first on the Specialist and Corporal before going to the passed out wastelander and to the zombie. His face turned to one of disgust at the last item. Gainer was aware of dull thuds coming from the door.  
Folding his hands in front of himself, the Colonel took up a look and air of calm authority as his gaze settled on Jones.

"Alright Corporal. Start from the beginning."


End file.
